Friday, August 5, 2016

Cassandras Warning of Poison in the White Bread

Yesterday! ▲ The Bowl. Today, Acadia and St Sauveur mountains.

Here is the sublede to the top story in the Washington Post at 6:27 AM EDT August 5 2016: To expand its outreach to potential GOP converts who find they can no
longer stomach Donald Trump, Hillary Clinton’s campaign has a simple
message: Even if you don't like her, choosing the Democratic nominee is
moral and patriotic. Disclosure: the Washington Post wants me to pay to read it, and fuck that, so I don't know what's in the story.

Skinks for Rump: This is the excellent irony of Milo and the twinks for Daddy Trump.
These little blond racist shitbirds have got it in their heads that they
can help present him as a figure of phallic power, when in reality
he—and they—become even more figures of fun. (Interestingly, by the way,
the Classical world considered both impotence and well-endowed-ness to
be pretty much equally hilarious and unmanly.) They are a punchline that
comes to life and imagines itself as the comedian.

The weird cynicism of using children to back up your political opinion.

::: wood s lot ::: has posted only twice since June. It's one of my favorite and most invaluable blogs I know. Mark usually takes a couple of weeks off in the summer, but... here's sending out an insignificant beacon.

I've been listening to all my Meredith Monk on drive-arounds and Earthgirl has let me, so bless her.

So, Elkin. (Thanks, Ed, for bumping me back to an old lover.) Here is quintessential Elkin, a description of guests past on Dick Gibson's overnight talk show: the lists, the logorrhea (his word), the adjectives and adverbs, the rhythm, the sentences, the working of vowels and phonemes. Read it out loud. I dare you. The paragraph begins: No, he knew little about his listeners. They were not even mysterious; they were there, but distant as the Sioux. He knew more